


Haunted Heart

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-01
Updated: 2006-02-28
Packaged: 2018-08-15 23:55:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8078818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: Malcolm finds new love, but the past comes back to haunt him.   (01/25/2006)





	1. PART 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: This is my answer to Mary C's 2005 October AU challenge. I wasn't planning on writing anything for it because I've been swamped with real life stuff lately, but then this plot pony showed up in the pasture and demanded to be written. This piece isn't heavily AU, but I consider anything that kills off one of my favorite characters AU. My world stays happier that way.  
  
Thanks to GroovyGoddess and MeanOldCow for betaing. Their comments and suggestions were invaluable. Any mistakes that remain are mine and mine alone.  


* * *

Malcolm Reed slipped silently through the sterile white corridors of the Morganthian medical research facility. Jonathan Archer was right behind him, his face creased with anger and anxiety. 

Reed paused at yet another door, taking up a defensive position on the far side. He gave Archer a curt nod and waited for the other man to key open the door. Reed peered quickly into the room, phase pistol at the ready, but there was nothing there. Nothing alive anyway. 

Bile crowded into his throat as he stared at the dead alien that lay on the steel table in the middle of the room. It had been flayed, the skin carefully peeled back to reveal the underlying musculature. The internal organs had been pulled from the body cavity and laid out with painstaking precision on the wide table. Each one was meticulously labeled. There was no blood. 

Reed turned away from the sight. He hoped that Archer wouldn't notice the growing tremor in his hands as he started down the corridor toward the next door. 

Archer hadn't wanted him to come on this rescue mission; had said that he was too emotionally involved. But Reed had insisted. So far he had managed to keep his personal feelings walled up behind a thick icy barrier of professionalism, but that barrier was beginning to erode. 

Trip Tucker was somewhere in this sprawling nightmare of a place. Scanners didn't work properly in the heavily shielded facility, so Reed and Archer had been reduced to making a door-to-door search. They hadn't found any sign of Tucker so far. Each room had only revealed new horrors, and left them with a little less hope of finding Tucker alive and whole. 

With grim determination, Reed took up his position by the next door.

_______________________________

Reed had lost count of how many rooms they had searched, but he knew that they were running out of time. It was nearly dawn. In a little over an hour, the facility would be buzzing with activity as the butchers who called themselves scientists returned to continue their vile work.

Reed gave Archer a weary nod. The door slid open and he glanced inside. Tucker lay on the metal table under a thin white sheet, his eyes closed as if in sleep. Reed felt his heart constrict painfully in his chest. 

With a low cry, Archer ran forward to check on Tucker, but Reed remained rooted to the spot. He knew that it was already too late. His lover's body lacked the brilliant spark of animation that all living things had even at rest. They had come too late. Tucker was dead. 

Reed closed his eyes and tightened his grip on his weapon. His breath caught in his throat. Too late. They were too late. 

"Oh no. No, no, no." Archer's strangled exclamation of dismay drew Reed's attention back to the table. The sheet had slipped off of Tucker during Archer's attempts to revive him. Like the others, Tucker had been opened up and pulled apart; reduced to a thing, a specimen. 

Reed stared blankly at his lover's mutilated body. The hands that had touched him with tenderness had been stripped and diminished to bone and bare sinew; the heart that had loved him had been excised and exiled from the body that had given him so much pleasure. Only Tucker's face had been left unspoiled and the stark juxtaposition of beauty and devastation was almost unbearable. 

The cold barrier of professionalism trembled like a dam that was holding back too much water. Reed fought to stabilize it. He couldn't let it collapse. Not now. They were on enemy territory and he had a duty to see to Archer's safety. Enterprise couldn't afford to lose two of her senior-most officers. 

Ruthlessly, Reed shoved everything but the need for action into the back of his mind. If he let himself think about his loss for even a second he would be swept away, drowned in a deluge of grief and guilt. For the ship's sake he would be ice, impervious to pain. 

The remainder of the mission passed in a vague blur. 

Reed remembered pushing Tucker's organs back into the gutted body and winding the sheet tightly around the corpse to hold it all together. He hefted the grim burden across his shoulders. It was strangely light, as if the parts were somehow much less than the whole had been. 

Lifeless. Cold. Empty. 

A multitude of cracks opened in the ice, leaking anguish. 

He remembered telling a weeping, shell-shocked Archer that they needed to go--now. Duty was a thin, comfortless refuge. But there was little else to cling to in the rising tide of grief. 

He remembered shooting three Morganthians with a phase pistol set to kill. He felt no remorse as they fell, only a bleak savage satisfaction. 

Madness swirled beneath his failing facade of calm like black water under rotting spring ice. Treacherous. Dangerous. No way of knowing how long it would hold. 

He remembered wishing with all of his devastated heart that he could blow the entire facility back to whatever hell it came from. 

He remembered docking the shuttlepod safely with Enterprise just before the ice shattered and gave way, drowning him in a chaotic flood of anguish so vast and overwhelming that it couldn't be contained in thought or memory. Only his heart and soul had any comprehension of the terrifying totality of it. 

They had come too late. Trip Tucker was dead.

_______________________________

Reed woke with a sharp gasp. He was shaking and his face was wet with tears. He reached out blindly and found only emptiness. The familiar ache of loss rose into his chest.

Reflexively, Reed groped at the chain around his neck and found the ring that hung from it. Tucker's ring--a cold metal substitute for the warm flesh he still instinctively sought every time he woke. 

For a long time he sat in the silent darkness, trying to reorient himself. Two years. It had been nearly two years since Tucker had died at the hands of the Morganthians. 

Reed fell back against the pillow and pressed his hands over his eyes. It had been a while since those bitter memories had surfaced in his dreams, but even after all this time they still had the power to cut him to the soul. 

He brought up the lights and looked around his neat quarters. They felt cold and empty. Reed was always surprised by how much he missed Tucker's clutter. They had argued about it fiercely when Tucker had been alive, but Tucker's intrusive possessions had somehow made the place a home. That home was gone now, and had been for a long time. 

Suddenly, Reed didn't want to be alone. It hurt too much to be alone. He desperately needed the presence and warmth of another living, breathing being. He climbed out of bed and quickly dressed.

_______________________________

Reed rang the door chime and waited patiently. He had no idea what time it was, only that it was very late. But he knew that he wouldn't be turned away because Tucker's death had done what nothing else would have been able to accomplish: it had made Reed and Archer friends.

Reed supposed it was only natural. They had both cared deeply for Tucker. And Archer was one of the few people on board who knew that, with Tucker's death, Reed had lost a partner as well as a friend. Reed often regretted that it had taken such a crippling loss to make him see Archer as a friend first and a captain second. 

The door slid open. Archer blinked blearily in the light from the corridor. His hair was mussed and his t-shirt was on inside out. Reed guessed that he had dressed without turning on the lights. 

"Malcolm?" Archer's voice was heavy with sleep and unasked questions. He frowned in concern and drew Reed into the room. 

Reed always worried that coming here was unfair to Archer. He couldn't help but wonder if his pain tore open the tender scars of Archer's own grief. But if it did, the other man had never said anything. 

"Hey," Archer said, a little worried by Reed's silence, "are you okay?" 

"No." Reed was embarrassed by the way his voice shook. 

"Do you want to talk about it?" Archer asked quietly. 

"No. Not right now." 

"All right." Archer said. "Come on then." He slung his arm around Reed's shoulders and steered him over to the bed. It was an invitation that had been extended many times since Tucker's death. Reed paused just long enough to kick off his shoes before he climbed in. Archer slid in beside him and draped a comforting arm around his middle. 

Reed shivered and pressed back against the other man's warmth. He thought back to the first time they had done this--the night he had read Phlox's autopsy report on Tucker. They hadn't wanted him see it, but he had needed to know...

_______________________________

Archer stood in the middle of Reed's quarters with an anxious expression on his face.

"Malcolm, are you sure you want to see this?" He asked. 

"Yes." Reed said, his voice flat and empty. 

"I really don't think..." 

"I need to see it." Reed said. "I need to know how he died." He already knew it was bad; that it would bring no closure. But he still needed to see it. 

Archer sighed and reluctantly held out a PADD. 

Reed took it without hesitation. He was annoyed when Archer made no move to go. He wanted to look at the report in private, but couldn't think of a tactful way to ask the other man to leave. With a soft sigh of resignation, he sat down on the bed and began to read. 

The report held no comfort, nor did it provide any illusions that Tucker's death had been quick or easy. The cold clinical phrases all boiled down to a stark painful reality: Tucker had been vivisected. He had been alive, possibly even conscious, as his body had been slowly and systematically deconstructed. 

The thought of Tucker being awake and aware while the Morganthians gradually sliced him apart made Reed's head reel. His stomach gave a sudden violent lurch. He bolted into the bathroom and threw up what little he had managed to eat that evening. Even after his stomach had emptied itself, he continued to convulse with dry heaves as if his body was trying to rid itself of something deep-rooted and poisonous. 

When the spasms finally ended, Reed rested his head in his hands and tried to catch his breath. It was only then he became aware of the fact that Archer was kneeling beside him and rubbing a hand over his back in small soothing circles. 

"Are you done?" Archer asked. Reed nodded. 

"I'm sorry." He said. He was ashamed by his complete lack of control. Archer handed him a glass of water and he quickly rinsed out his mouth. 

"I did the same thing earlier." Archer said quietly. "Come on." He tugged gently on Reed's arm. 

Reed thought that Archer was taking him to sickbay for a hypospray full of sedatives, and was surprised when they ended up in Archer's quarters instead. 

Archer pushed Reed down into a chair by a small table, and then pulled a bottle of bourbon and two glasses out of a small cabinet. He took the seat across from Reed. Without ceremony, he broke the seal on the bottle, and filled both glasses to the brim. He shoved one of the glasses toward Reed and then picked up the other and drained it dry. 

They emptied the bottle in silence, both of them bent on getting drunk as quickly as possible. 

"I shouldn't have let him go alone." Reed finally said. 

"Malcolm." Archer's voice was pained. "Don't." 

"I should have been there to protect him." Reed's breath caught in his throat. Tears welled up into his eyes and he blinked rapidly to hold them at bay. "I should have..." He pressed his fingers hard over his eyes and struggled for control. 

"We didn't know." Archer said. "It wasn't your fault. If you need to blame someone, then blame me. It was my call to send him down there." 

Reed shook his head mutely. He couldn't blame Archer. After all, he had thought they were safe too. He had actually liked the science-minded Morganthians before he had discovered that they lacked even a rudimentary sense of ethics. It was a discovery that had come too late to save Tucker. 

Reed felt the hot tears leak out from under his eyelids. There was nothing he could do to stop them and he hated himself for it. For not being in control. For not being able to save Tucker. For having failed when it had counted the most. 

Reed shivered when Archer's arms closed around his shoulders. His first instinct was to pull away, but the impulse was short-lived. He was keenly aware of Archer's grief. The sharp jagged edges of it cut through his defenses and blurred the carefully drawn lines between superior and subordinate. 

"We didn't know." Archer said again as if trying to find absolution in the words. 

Reed said nothing, but he suddenly found himself returning the embrace. There was something strangely solid and comforting in the shared pain. 

The next morning Reed woke up in Archer's arms, fully clothed and badly hung-over. For a while he tried to pretend that it was Tucker who held him, but it was no use. There were too many differences. Archer was taller and more muscular than Tucker and the points of contact were all wrong. His scent was slightly muskier. Even the rhythm of his breathing was slower. But Archer was alive and warm and a reminder that Reed wasn't alone in his pain. 

Ever since then, when it all became too much he somehow ended up in Archer's quarters. At first he only came when the crushing grief threatened to overwhelm him. He and Archer would drink and share their memories of Tucker and mourn together. 

But then, over time, Reed slowly began to seek out Archer's company for other reasons as well--to exchange news of how the day went, or to talk about literature, or to watch a water polo match, or to play a game of chess. Reed found that he simply enjoyed being with the other man.

_______________________________

Reed sighed and dragged himself back into the present. He shifted in Archer's arms.

"I miss him." He said into the darkness. 

"I know." Archer stroked his fingers soothingly along Reed's t-shirt clad stomach. It was a carefully friendly touch, intended only to comfort. 

Reed occasionally wondered if Archer wanted something other than friendship from him. There were times when he thought he saw desire in the other man's eyes, but Archer was always extremely careful with him. He never pushed; never crossed any lines. He only offered comfort and friendship whenever Reed showed up on his doorstep. 

Sometimes Reed wished that Archer wasn't so careful. But tonight wasn't one of those times. Tonight he just wanted the simple comfort of the other man's presence. * 

"Are you sure you don't want to take the day off?" Archer asked as they entered the captain's mess. 

"Yes. I'm sure." Reed said evenly. "I need to take another look at the targeting scanners. According to the gamma shift report, they're creeping out of alignment again. They've always been temperamental, but the problem seems to be getting worse. I need to..." Archer caught Reed by the arm and pulled him to a halt. 

"It's been a long time since you showed up in the middle of the night like that." He said softly. 

"I know. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have..." 

"No." Archer interrupted. "Don't apologize. I don't mind. I was just wondering if...if everything is really okay." 

"Yes. Old memories, Jonathan, nothing more. I think they just caught me off guard." Reed was a little startled by the truth of his own words. The sharp pain of remembrance had already started to fade into the background again. It would always be there, but it no longer dominated his life the way it once had. 

"All right." Archer said. 

Nothing more was said about it, but over the next few days, Reed often caught Archer watching him with a worried frown. At first he found it nerve-racking, then it became annoying, but eventually he learned to ignore it. And so he never really noticed, as the days slid into weeks and months, that Archer's gaze slowly changed from concerned to contemplative.


	2. PART 2

PART 2 

Reed muttered a curse and grabbed onto the edges of his console as another volley of weapons fire slammed into Enterprise. He carefully tracked the paths of the three raider ships, trying to get a lock on them. They were surprisingly agile for their size and well suited to the hit-and-run tactics they employed. 

"Malcolm..." Archer said tensely. 

"I'm working on it." Reed replied sharply as he returned fire. 

"We have minor breaches on decks C, D and E." T'Pol reported from her station. 

Reed looked down at his console in frustration. His options were severely limited at this point. The torpedoes seemed to have only minimal effects on the heavily shielded raider ships. And now both the aft and portside phase cannons were offline. However, the sensors indicated that the last exchange of fire had finally punched a hole in the ventral shielding of one of the enemy ships. It was a small advantage, but one Reed was more than willing to exploit. 

"Travis," he said "can you get us under the damaged ship and bank us hard enough to let me get a lock on it with the starboard cannon?" 

"I think so." Mayweather replied. 

"Then do it, and hope they're too busy shooting at us to notice what we're about." 

Reed waited tensely as Mayweather quickly maneuvered Enterprise under the wounded ship. His finger hovered over the firing button. Almost there. Wait. Wait... 

"Now!" Reed said. Mayweather rolled Enterprise hard onto her side with perfect timing. The targeting scanners found their mark almost immediately. 

Reed pressed the firing button. 

A large explosion blossomed on the belly of the raider ship. For a moment it looked like the force of the blast had been deflected, but then the sleek raider craft suddenly listed to one side and a rapid succession of smaller explosions ran along its length. 

Reed watched in surprise as the ship slowly broke apart. He hadn't been trying to destroy it, just disable it. He must have accidentally hit a critical system. 

"The other ships are retreating." T'Pol said. 

Reed gave a small sigh of relief. The two remaining ships were probably just falling back to regroup, but at least that would give Enterprise and her crew some time to do the same.

________________________________

Reed rang the door chime to Archer's ready room.

"Yes?" Came the slightly annoyed reply. 

"It's Lieutenant Reed, sir. I have the damage reports from the armory." 

"Come in." Archer said. Reed opened the door and stepped into the small room. 

"Please tell me you have good news." Archer said from behind his desk. 

"I'm afraid not." Reed said wearily. "The aft and port phase cannons are both badly damaged. They'll need to be completely rebuilt. The starboard cannon is barely functional. If the raiders return, I doubt we'll be able to drive them off again." 

"What do you suggest then?" 

"The scans we took of the raider ships have given me a few ideas on how to modify the torpedoes to make them more effective, but there are no guarantees." Reed sighed and shook his head. "As much as I hate to say it, I think we should focus our efforts on fixing the warp engine. Running is probably our best option at this point." 

"I agree." Archer said. "Hess and her team are already working on the engine. She thinks she can have it up and running in three hours. I want you to do what you can with the starboard cannon. Just in case." 

"Already on it." 

"Good. Keep me informed." 

"Yes, sir."

________________________________

The bridge crew kept a close eye on the long-range scanners. The raider ships were still shadowing Enterprise like a pair of hungry wolves. The destruction of their sister ship had made them wary, but Reed knew that sooner or later their caution would wane and they would close in for the kill.

He pushed himself and his team as hard as he dared. Hess was doing the same in engineering, desperately trying to hold the warp engine together long enough for the ship to reach safety. The previous attack had damaged the engine badly enough that Warp 3 was the best they could do. Further repairs could only be completed with the engine offline. It was clear to everyone that Enterprise needed to find a safe harbor--the sooner, the better. 

T'Pol eventually found what they were looking for in the form of a sparse solar system with two massive gas giants and a much smaller but heavily populated Minshara class planet. As soon as Enterprise altered course toward it, the raiders disappeared from the long-range scanners.

________________________________

T'Pol handed a PADD full of documents and forms to Archer.

"According to the Vulcan database, the Haldarrians are technologically advanced and open to trade with other species." She explained. "However, because of the nature of the materials we need, our trade negotiations will have to go through the Restricted Technologies Committee. I have already made contact with the Committee Chair and she has agreed to meet with us in two days to discuss our needs. These forms must be completed before that time." 

"Sounds a little bureaucratic." Archer said as he paged through the seemingly endless forms. 

"The Haldarrians believe that all societies must develop at their own pace. They will trade certain technologies only to those who can demonstrate that they are culturally ready to manage them. They are to be commended for their caution. I do not believe we will have any major difficulties in obtaining the necessary equipment and materials." 

"I hope you're right." Archer said.


	3. PART 3

Reed gave a sigh of relief as he climbed into the shuttlepod and sat down on one of the benches. Archer dropped down beside him as T'Pol made her way over to the co-pilot's chair next to Mayweather. 

"I was beginning to think that you'd been held up indefinitely." Mayweather commented from the pilot's seat. 

"I was too." Reed said with a humorless laugh. "I thought we'd never get out of there. The closing comments alone took two hours and seven minutes. That breaks yesterday's record by nineteen minutes." 

"Nineteen minutes and thirty-two seconds to be precise." T'Pol said from the front of the shuttlepod. 

"These people certainly do like to talk, don't they?" Archer said wearily. "You'd think that after four days they'd be tired of it. I know I am. But we made good progress. I think that we'll have these trade negotiations wrapped up by tomorrow afternoon." 

"I wonder how many forms we'll have to fill out for that?" Reed muttered. He sighed and rubbed at his eyes, letting his head fall back against the bulkhead. 

"Are you all right?" Archer asked. 

The shuttlepod shuddered slightly as it rose up into the air. Reed could hear T'Pol and Mayweather chatting about the slow progress of the trade talks. He managed a weak smile. 

"I'm fine. Just tired, I guess. Between these negotiations and the cannon repairs..." 

"I thought you said Ensign Singh was looking after the repair work." Archer said. Reed glanced away guiltily. 

"She is. For the most part." He said. 

"For the most part?" Archer asked. 

"I've been lending her a hand every now and then." 

"Meaning you've been pulling a second shift in the armory every night." Archer said disapprovingly. 

"Not every night." Reed said defensively. 

"Have you even signed up for shore leave yet?" 

"Well, no, not exactly. I didn't know when the negotiations would be over so I haven't..." 

"You're on leave tomorrow." 

"What?" Reed said. "But what about the security arrangements for the..." Archer cut him off. 

"You've been working too hard lately. I promise that I'll take someone from security with me tomorrow, but you're going to take the day off." 

"And what about you?" Reed challenged. "You haven't taken any leave time yet, sir." 

"I'm not the one who's been working double shifts for the past four days." Archer said mildly. 

"No, you're just the one who's had to deal with the endless forms and bureaucratic officials. All I've had to do is stand around and look vaguely menacing. You're the one who's been doing all the hard work." 

"All right." Archer said. "After these talks are done I'll take some time off--on one condition." Reed looked at Archer warily. 

"What kind of condition?" He asked. Archer leaned closer and put his hand on Reed's thigh. 

"That you have dinner with me tomorrow night." He said quietly. 

Reed stared at Archer's hand. He could feel its warmth through the fabric of his uniform. It looked like Archer was finished with being careful. 

"Oh...um, yes." Reed managed to say. "Of course. I'd, uh, love to." 

"Good." Archer sat back with a satisfied smile. Reed fidgeted nervously and wondered if he had done the right thing by saying yes.

___________________________________

The mess hall buzzed with talk of the delights to be had on the planet below. Reed did his best to tune it out and focus on the phase cannon schematics in front of him. As a result, he didn't notice the approach of Mayweather and Sato until Mayweather spoke.

"Hey Malcolm. Do you mind if we join you? This place is packed tonight." Reed looked up from his PADD in surprise. 

"Oh. Go ahead." He waved absently at the empty chairs. The two ensigns placed their trays on the table and sat down. 

"Is there something wrong with the pasta tonight?" Sato asked. 

"What?" Reed said distractedly. He glanced at the cold congealed food on his plate. "Oh. No. No, it's fine. I guess I just wasn't terribly hungry." 

"Have you been down to see the market yet? It's fantastic. I found the most amazing silk scarf there this morning." 

"Excuse me?" Reed asked. Sato frowned at him. 

"The huge open-air market on the outskirts of town?" She said. Reed just looked at her blankly. 

"Wait. Don't tell me." Sato said with a sigh of exasperation. "You've spent the whole time playing bodyguard to the Captain and T'Pol and haven't had time to see anything yet." 

"I'm just doing my job, Ensign." Reed said stiffly. 

"Come on, Malcolm." Sato said, undeterred by Reed's emphasis on her rank. "When was the last time you had a chance to get off the ship and relax?" 

"She's right, you know." Mayweather added. "Even you need a break every once and a while." Reed rolled his eyes. 

"You two are starting to sound like the Captain." He said. "Don't worry. I've already been told in no uncertain terms that I'm to take some leave time tomorrow. So why don't you tell me more about this 'fantastic' market..."

___________________________________

Reed stifled a sigh as he pushed his way through the extensive outdoor market. Everyone had said that it was incredible, but Reed wished he hadn't bothered to come. The market offered all sorts of strange, beautiful, and unique items, but the claustrophobic maze of stalls and the teeming crowds of people put his nerves on edge.

Or maybe it was just the thought of having dinner with Archer that was bothering him. Reed still wasn't sure that saying yes had been the right thing to do. He knew he had opened the door to something far more intimate than dining together by accepting the invitation. He still wasn't entirely sure he was ready to step across that particular threshold. 

Reed sighed and tried to push his worries into the back of his mind. He stopped to admire a small display of beautifully made hunting knives. He would have been tempted to buy one, but he didn't have any of the local currency. Instead, he merely complimented the craftsman on his wares and moved on. 

Reed growled in annoyance as an unruly group of young people jostled past him. He'd had enough. He needed to get out of the crowds before his temper snapped. 

According to the rough map Sato had given him, he wasn't terribly far from the outer edge of the marketplace. He would have to skirt around the market for quite a distance to get back to the hotel, but at least he would be out of the obnoxious crush of people. 

Reed sidestepped a woman who was carrying a white fox-like animal. The creature growled and snapped at him as he passed. He jumped back, barely avoiding the animal's flashing teeth. He stumbled slightly and accidentally bumped into a man who had dark twisting tattoos running across his cheeks and forehead. 

"Er, excuse me." Reed said. 

"You are a long way from home, traveler." 

"Yes. Obviously." Reed said shortly. He started to move away, but the man blocked his path. Reed tensed. 

"The spirits tell me you will have need of this tonight." The man said. He thrust a bracelet made of twisted grasses and herbs into Reed's hand. 

"What's this?" Reed asked warily. 

"For protection." 

"Against what?" 

"Malevolence." The man said solemnly. Reed shook his head. 

"I have no money." He tried to return the charm, but the man backed away from him. 

"It is a gift, freely given." The man turned and quickly disappeared into the shifting sea of people. 

Reed stared after him in confusion for a few moments before turning his attention to the bracelet. The complex braid of different grasses created a subtle but pleasing pattern, and it gave off a faint scent that reminded him of springtime in England. Impulsively, he slipped the charm onto his wrist and then continued to push his way through the obstacle course of shoppers and merchants. 

Reed heaved a sigh of relief when he finally broke free of the marketplace. The dark forest-covered hills that surrounded the city loomed in front of him and he welcomed the sight. A narrow path led up into the trees and he followed it, seeking solitude. He'd had more than enough of other people for the time being. 

Reed paused briefly under the trees and drew in a deep breath of fresh air. He felt his earlier tension start to drain away. 

The day wasn't very cold, but the wind carried the sharp scent of autumn. Reed found it pleasant. It was easy to forget about the endless cycle of seasons out in deep space. Suddenly, a solitary walk in the woods seemed like the ideal way to spend the rest of the afternoon. The harsh noises of the marketplace slowly faded as he continued up the trail. 

Reed had been walking uphill for nearly an hour when his wrist suddenly began to itch and sting. He scowled and quickly pulled off the bracelet. The skin where the band had rested was swollen and pebbled with tiny painful blisters. 

"Bloody allergies." Reed muttered to himself. He nearly tossed the charm away, but then hesitated. Phlox might want to see the blasted thing, especially if the reaction worsened, so he pushed it into his pocket instead. 

Reed probed gingerly at the blisters. The burning pain was starting to subside now that he had removed the bracelet. He thought about turning back, but he was nearly at the top of the hill. It would be a shame to give up now. Besides, he had his communicator. He could contact the ship if he started to feel ill. 

At the top of the hill, the trail took a sharp turn and opened up into a wide grassy clearing. A graceful white granite building stood in the center of it. Curious, Reed approached the gleaming structure. 

A set of wide wooden doors guarded the entrance. Black spirals had been carved into the pale wood. Reed wondered if the dark color was the result of paint or some unusual property of the wood itself. It was hard to tell. He lifted his hand and traced one of the spirals with his finger. He was startled when the door swung open under the light touch. 

He entered the building cautiously. The sound of his own footsteps echoed around him. It was far cooler inside, and he shivered slightly. The curved white granite walls rose up into a high domed ceiling. There were no windows, but the walls themselves seemed to give off a pale pearly light. 

There was very little inside the building. A huge dark spiral adorned the lustrous white floor. It started at the outer edges of the room just to the right of the doors and coiled inward. To the left of the doors, a group of lit black candles sat on a low wooden alter. Reed moved a little closer to investigate them. They were arranged in a tight spiral pattern and gave off a thick heavy scent that made him feel a little lightheaded. 

"The dead walk close to you." A low voice said. 

Reed spun around with a small gasp of surprise, his hand automatically reaching for a weapon that wasn't there. The ancient white-haired woman smiled at him gently. 

"My apologies, traveler. I did not mean to startle you." 

"I...it's all right." Reed said. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to intrude..." 

"The Temple is open to all." 

"Oh." Reed said uncomfortably. A warm lassitude was slowly spreading through his body and he could hear a faint buzzing sound in his ears. 

"Do you seek communion with the dead?" 

"I...ah, excuse me?" Reed asked. He shook his head a little to clear the fog from his mind. 

"Do you wish to speak to your dead? Is that why you have come here?" 

"I don't know." Reed said softly. 

The old woman looked at him with piercing yellow-green eyes. He felt strangely exposed under her gaze and a faint frisson of apprehension rolled down his spine. He shook his head again. 

"I think...I think I should go." He said. He stumbled a little as he turned to leave. 

"You had no chance to say farewell to him." The woman said. Reed paused on the threshold. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard against the old grief her words evoked. 

"No, I didn't." He said. 

"Regret is a bitter thing, is it not?" The woman said. "But the chance stands before you now should you wish to take it." Reed turned around slowly. 

"What do I have to do?" He asked. The words felt thick and clumsy in his mouth. 

"Hold that which was his." The woman said. She pointed a withered finger at Reed's chest where the ring lay hidden beneath his uniform. Reed reluctantly pulled the chain over his head and closed his hand around the ring. Something...something wasn't quite right. He tightened his hold on the ring until its thin edges bit painfully into his palm. 

"Now walk the spiral." The woman said. She redirected her finger to point at the black spiral that coiled across the temple floor. 

Reed stared at the design with a puzzled frown. The spiral had a strangely organic quality to it. There were no signs that an artisan's hand had any part in shaping it--no traces of paint or stain or inlay. It was as if the darkness of space had simply decided to take up residence there, curling in on itself like a sleeping dragon. 

"Where does it go?" Reed asked. His voice sounded strangely distant. 

"It will take you to the place between worlds. The place where the living may speak with the dead." 

"Oh." Reed said wistfully. "I'd like that." 

"Then walk the spiral." The woman said. 

Reed stepped onto the design without really meaning to. He felt detached from what was happening, as if caught in a dream. His footfalls, which had sounded impossibly loud on the white granite, made no sound at all on the dense black spiral. 

Clutching the ring tightly, Reed walked along the dark path. Thin tendrils of shadow rose up from the spiral to twine around his legs like friendly cats. Some small part of him thought that he should be alarmed, but all he felt was a remote curiosity. 

The dark strands rose up higher, twisting themselves around him as he walked the increasingly tight curves of the spiral. The walls of the temple flared into brilliant incandescence, but the glaring light had no effect on the rising shadows. 

He was on the inner coils of the spiral now and it was getting harder to move. Thick strands of darkness wound tightly around his body, grasping at him greedily. He struggled to move through them. As he took the final hard-won step into the center of the spiral, an overwhelming darkness engulfed him. 

He hung in a void of nothingness. No light, no sound, no sensation. There was only a darkness that lacked both time and meaning. 

But then Reed slowly became aware of a faint silvery light. It seemed to be emanating from his own body, as if he were the sole star in an otherwise empty universe. He felt the ring pressing against his palm, reminding him of his purpose. 

"Trip?" He whispered tentatively. "Are you here?" The sound of his voice was immediately swallowed by the oppressive darkness. There was no response. 

"Trip?" He called a little louder. He was pretty sure Tucker was supposed to be here. The old woman had said he would be here. Reed continued to call his lover's name. But no reply ever came. Bitter disappointment rose into his throat. 

A hand touched his shoulder and he spun around. The alien woman glowed brightly in the blackness. 

"You must leave now." She said. 

"He isn't here." Reed said accusingly. 

"Perhaps it is too far for him to come." 

"You said he was close." 

"He is. But even short distances can be difficult to bridge. Come, it is dangerous to stay here for too long. Many things live in the darkness between worlds and not all of them are benign." The woman reached out and took him by the arm. 

Reed gasped and opened his eyes. He was standing at the center of the black spiral, the old woman's hand on his arm. He pulled away from her and stared down at the inert design. Had he imagined it all? 

"I am sorry you did not find what you were seeking." The woman said softly. 

A heavy pungent scent hung in the air. The candles. Reed bit down on a violent curse. Of course he had imagined everything. He'd been drugged. The bloody things were probably full of hallucinogens. 

"I'm sure you are." Reed said bitterly. He tightened his hand around the ring and walked away without a backward glance. 

He was annoyed that he had allowed himself to be taken in by some old charlatan. Because of his foolish desire to see Tucker again, he had let himself believe in the impossible. He had behaved stupidly and irresponsibly. 

Reed felt a little unsteady on his feet as he walked out of the temple and into the sunlit glade. He started to put the chain over his head, but then hesitated and stuffed it into his pocket along with the grass charm. 

Tucker was gone. Dead. He had been for over two years and there would be no miracle to bring him back. 

It was time to let go.

___________________________________

"I'm not boring you, am I?"

"What?" Reed pulled himself out of his tumultuous thoughts and looked at Archer. 

They were sitting on the small balcony of Archer's hotel room and drinking the local equivalent of beer. The huge red sun was starting to go down, sinking slowly behind the dark forested hills. 

"Malcolm, are you okay?" Archer asked. "You've hardly said anything all evening." 

"I'm sorry." Reed said. "I've just been thinking." 

"About what?" Archer prompted when Reed didn't continue. 

"Trip." Reed said as he put his glass down onto the small table. 

"Oh." Archer said. He glanced down into his own nearly empty glass. Reed thought he looked a little disappointed. 

"And I've been thinking about us." Reed said as he stood. Archer looked at him questioningly. "And this." Reed added. 

He moved forward to straddle Archer's seated body. He leaned in and kissed the older man lightly on the lips. Archer accepted the touch passively. He didn't pull away, but he didn't participate either. 

"Do you want this?" Reed asked. He was worried by Archer's lack of response. Had he misread the other man so completely? 

"Malcolm..." Archer's tone wasn't promising. 

"I'm sorry. I-I thought...I shouldn't have..." Mortified, Reed started to pull away. He had made a terrible mistake. Archer didn't want him. 

"No. Wait." Archer grabbed Reed's hips, holding him in place. "I want this. I want you. I just...I don't want to be a replacement." Archer looked at him anxiously. 

Reed relaxed slightly. He reached out and stroked his fingers lightly along the curve of Archer's cheek. 

"I don't want you to be him, Jonathan." He said with a gentle smile of reassurance. "I want you to be yourself." 

"Are you sure?" 

"Yes." Reed said. "I won't lie to you. I miss Trip. I'll always love him. But I love you too. I have for a while. I've been pushing it aside because it felt like I was betraying Trip, but today I suddenly realized that we're here and he's not. He's dead and he's not coming back no matter how much we want him to." 

"No." Archer said softly. "No, he's not." 

"I want to be with you Jonathan. I know it won't be what I had with Trip. And I don't want it to be. I want it to be ours." 

"Ours." Archer echoed with a faint smile. 

"Yes. No ghosts. Just us." 

"I'd like that." Archer said. 

He slid his hand onto Reed's neck and pulled him down for a kiss. It started out tentatively, but quickly grew more heated as their tongues touched. Archer ran his hands down Reed's back, eliciting a small moan of pleasure from the younger man. They broke apart, panting slightly. 

Reed shivered a little in the cool air. It was getting darker and tiny tentative stars were starting to appear in the sky. 

"Cold?" Archer asked. 

"Yes. A little." Reed said with another shiver. Archer smiled. 

"Why don't we go inside and warm up." He said. 

"I'd like that." Reed said softly.

___________________________________

Reed woke with a sharp gasp. His brow was damp with sweat and his heart pounded painfully in his chest. He sat up and rubbed his trembling hands over his face, trying to erase the cold nameless dread that still tightened his throat.

In the dim moonlight, he could just barely make out Archer's sleeping form lying next to him. He reached out and touched Archer's arm. It was reassuringly warm and solid. 

Reed climbed out of the bed and carefully made his way into the bathroom. He shut the door tightly before turning on the lights. He didn't want to disturb his new lover. 

Reed stared at his reflection in the mirror. His face was a little too pale and his eyes were full of anxiety. It must have been a hell of a nightmare, even if he couldn't remember it now. He turned on the sink faucet and splashed a little cold water over his face. 

As he straightened up, he caught a flash of movement in the mirror. He whirled around, ready to defend himself, but there was nothing there. He looked around the small room for a few minutes and then shook his head in disgust. His mind was playing tricks on him. 

"Get a grip." He muttered to himself as he swiped a towel across his face. 

His blistered wrist throbbed with a dull miserable ache. He ran some cold water over it in a futile attempt to ease the pain. Archer had fussed over it earlier, and had made Reed promise that he would see Phlox as soon as they returned to the ship. Reed thought Archer was overreacting. The blisters hurt, but they were far from life threatening. 

After another wary glance around the room, Reed shut off the light and rejoined Archer on the large bed. Despite the other man's comforting presence, it was a long time before he drifted off to sleep again.

___________________________________

A cold steady rain fell as Archer and Reed boarded the shuttlepod the next morning. The benches were crowded but Reed didn't mind. It gave him an excuse to sit closer to Archer than he might have otherwise dared.

Archer's warmth provided an antidote to the pervasive chill that hung in the air, and stirred vivid memories of last night's activities. Reed suppressed a smile and resisted the sudden urge to run his hands over Archer's body. They had both agreed that it would be best to keep their new relationship under wraps for now. 

A thump ran through the shuttlepod as someone secured the hatch. The rumble of the engines thinned to a sharp whine as it rose up into sky. Reed glanced out the narrow porthole, but the low dark clouds had already obscured the city below. For some reason the sight of the roiling clouds caused a small shiver of apprehension to run down Reed's spine. 

"Still cold?" Archer asked with a sly smile. His voice was low and meant for Reed only. 

"A little." Reed murmured back. 

"Guess I'll just have to warm you up again." Archer said. Reed shivered again, but this time the reaction had nothing to do with apprehension. 

"I thought you wanted to keep this quiet." Reed grumbled. He shifted uncomfortably. 

"What's the matter Malcolm?" Archer teased. "Are those jeans starting to feel a little too tight?" 

"Jonathan." Reed said warningly. "Keep it up and I won't be responsible for my actions." Archer grinned. 

"All right. I'll behave. For now."

___________________________________

Once they were back on the ship, Archer insisted that Reed go to sickbay to get his wrist examined.

"But I feel fine." Reed protested. "It's just a minor allergic reaction." 

"You said you would get it checked out when we got back." Archer reminded him. Reed sighed in resignation. 

"Oh, very well." He said. "If you insist." Archer smiled and gave Reed's shoulder a quick squeeze. 

"I'll see you on the bridge?" He said. 

"Of course."

___________________________________

"Oh, this is quite interesting!" Phlox said cheerfully.

"What's interesting?" Reed asked. "Are you familiar with the Earth plant known as 'poison ivy'?" 

"Yes. Unfortunately." 

"Well, according to my scans, the sap of one of the plants in this bracelet seems to have similar chemical properties. I suspect that's what caused the rash on your wrist." 

"Wonderful." Reed said sarcastically. 

"Here." Phlox handed Reed a small jar. "This cream should reduce the irritation." 

Reed gave the bright blue ointment a suspicious sniff. Most of Phlox's concoctions smelled rather revolting, but this one only had a faint peppermint-like smell. 

"Now, then." Phlox said. "I'd like to run some blood tests simply to be sure that there are no associated toxicities." 

"Is that really necessary?" Reed asked. 

"Nothing is showing up on the scans, but it's best to be thorough. It is an alien substance after all." 

"All right." Reed rolled up his sleeve and allowed Phlox to push a needle into his arm. He watched as dark venous blood slowly filled the large vacuum tube. 

"Do you really need that much?" Reed asked with a scowl. Phlox looked at him with mild amusement. 

"Yes, I'm afraid so, Lieutenant. I'll be running a general tox screen. Since I'm not looking for anything specific, I'll need to conduct a variety of tests." Phlox withdrew the needle and slapped a gauze pad over the puncture site. 

"There you go." He said. "All done. That didn't hurt a bit, now did it?" 

"I'll survive." Reed said wryly. 

"Would you mind if I kept this for further analysis?" Phlox held up the bracelet in his gloved hand. "Some of these plants may have medicinal qualities." 

"Consider it yours, Doctor." Reed said. "I certainly don't have any use for it." Phlox smiled at him. 

"Thank you, Lieutenant." 

"You're welcome. May I go now?" 

"I don't see why not. I'll comm you if I find any problems." 

"All right." Reed slid off the biobed and exited sickbay. 

As he walked down the corridor toward the lift, the back of his neck began to prickle. Suddenly on alert, he stopped and turned around. There was no one in sight. 

Reed carefully searched the corridor, even going so far as to peer up into the air vents, but he found no signs of a watcher or of surveillance equipment. Eventually, he told himself that he was being ridiculous and continued on toward the bridge. But he still couldn't quite shake the feeling that he was being watched.

___________________________________

Reed kept his conversation prudently casual as he and Archer walked down the corridors. But as soon as they were safely in Archer's quarters, he dropped the careful conversation in favor of unrestrained action.

Archer's grunt of surprise was muffled by Reed's forceful kiss. 

"Oh, I've been waiting to do that all day." Reed murmured. He trailed a line of quick kisses down Archer's neck. "You're very distracting, you know." He started to tug on the zipper of Archer's uniform, but Archer caught his hand in a light grip. 

"Malcolm." Archer said breathlessly. "Wait. We need to talk." 

"Now?" Reed asked in disbelief. 

"Yes. Now. Please, Malcolm." Reed reluctantly stepped away from Archer and sat down on the edge of the bed. 

"What's wrong?" He asked. 

"I...are you sure you're ready for this?" 

"You're asking me now?" Reed said with a laugh. "A little late, don't you think, considering how we spent last night?" 

"I know. And I'm sorry." 

"What for?" 

"I should have...uh, exercised a little more control." Archer said. Reed looked at him nervously. 

"Having second thoughts?" He asked softly. 

"No!" Archer said. "But I can't help but wonder if we're moving a little too fast." 

"Too fast for who? You or me?" 

"Malcolm..." 

"Jonathan, if you want to slow down for your own sake, then we'll slow down. I appreciate that you want to do what's best for me, but I've given this a lot of thought. I know what I want. And what I want is for you to stop talking nonsense and fuck me." Archer blinked a little, clearly taken aback, but then broke out into a grin. 

"Are you always this demanding?" He asked. 

"Only when I'm not getting what I want." Reed replied. He leaned back onto the pillows and smiled provocatively. "Are we done talking now?" 

"Uh..." Archer said. He stared at Reed hungrily. "Yes. Yes, we are." 

"Good." Reed said. He reached out and pulled Archer down onto the bed.

___________________________________

Reed woke with a violent start. His heart was racing and fear twisted in his gut like a knife. Something was wrong. Dreadfully wrong. There was...

Archer's quarters. He was in Archer's quarters. He could see the faint outlines of the familiar furniture in the dim starlight. He reached out and brought up the lights a little. As far as he could tell everything looked completely normal. 

A dream. He must have been dreaming. But of what? 

Reed fought to retrieve the disorienting, frightening images that flickered at the very edges of his memory. Something told him that they were terribly important, but it was like trying to grasp smoke. The harder he tried to remember them, the more insubstantial they became. 

Archer shifted slightly beside him and began to snore. The mundane sound brought Reed back to reality. He scrubbed his hands over his face and laughed softly. He was being foolish. It was just a nightmare. The hazy images were just murky products of his subconscious. Nothing more. 

The adrenaline the dream had generated pulsed restlessly through his body. Reed slid out of the bed and prowled silently around the room for a bit, trying to work off his nervous energy. 

He paused by the narrow porthole and gazed out at the streaming stars. He reached out and brushed his fingers over the cold pane that separated him from the hard vacuum of space. It felt reassuringly solid. Real. 

Reed shook his head at the strange thought. Of course it was real. He could even make out his own faint reflection in the glass. And there was something else there as well... 

For just a moment, Reed thought he saw a second figure standing behind him in the reflection. But when he turned there was no one there.

___________________________________

Reed woke to the feel of Archer's insistent erection pressing up against his backside. He stretched lazily in the circle of Archer's arms.

"Do we have time to take care of that?" He asked with a smile. 

"We do if we hurry." Archer said. His hand slowly drifted down Reed's belly and settled on the younger man's rapidly hardening cock. Reed sighed happily. 

His interrupted sleep had left him feeling a little tired, but not tired enough to forgo a quick round of early morning sex. He rolled over and pressed closer to Archer, tangling their bodies together. The warm sweet slide of skin on skin quickly dispelled his lingering thoughts of disquieting dreams and phantom reflections.

___________________________________

Reed lay awkwardly on his side with his hand deep inside the phase cannon assembly. He strained forward and tried to wiggle the power sequencer into place. He made a small sound of triumph when he finally felt it slide into the proper position. With his free hand, he groped blindly for the wrench to lock it into place. He gave a growl of annoyance when he couldn't find it. He didn't dare move too much for fear of losing his hold on the sequencer. It had taken him quite some time to get it into place and he didn't want to have to do it all over again.

He swore softly and wondered where Ensign Singh was. She had left to get the recalibration kit a while ago. She should have been back by now. 

He was just about to give up when, out of the very corner of his eye, he saw someone come into the room. He could see the person's distorted reflection in the metal of the cannon casing as well. Singh must have finally found the kit. 

"Perfect timing, Ensign." He said to the reflection. "Would you be so kind as to hand me the blue wrench?" There was no reply and the figure in the reflection made no move to help. 

"Hello?" Reed said. "The blue wrench, if you would. Please." Again there was no response. 

With a grunt of annoyance, Reed withdrew his hand and rolled over onto his back. There was no one there. Confused he looked back at the casing, but the reflection was gone as well. 

"Hello?" He called uncertainly. He climbed to his feet and peered out the door. There was no sign of anyone. 

"That's strange." He muttered. He could have sworn someone had been there. It must have just been a trick of the light. Reed picked up the wrench and turned it over in his hands with a thoughtful frown. 

A few moments later, Ensign Achala Singh came racing into the room. Her face was flushed and her hair had escaped from its normally neat ponytail. 

"I'm sorry it took so long, sir." She said as she placed the silver case onto the deck. "Someone stowed the kit in the wrong locker and it took me a while to..." 

"You weren't in here a minute ago?" Reed interrupted her explanation. 

"Uh, no, sir." 

"Did you see anyone on your way in?" He asked sharply. 

"No." She said in confusion. "Why? Is something wrong?" Reed shook his head. 

"Never mind." He said uneasily. "Would you give me a hand with this power sequencer?"

___________________________________

Reed tilted the spoon in his hand until he could see his distorted image in the metal. He stared at the reflection intently, but he couldn't see anything but himself in it. He frowned at it pensively.

The odd reflection he had seen earlier had rattled him. He had even spent part of the afternoon running surreptitious internal scans of the ship, but he hadn't found anything unusual. He felt a little silly about it now. He was probably just letting his imagination get the better of him. 

"Malcolm? Hey, are you in there?" Fingers snapped in front of his face and Reed drew back in surprise. 

"What?" He said. 

"Where were you just now?" Archer asked curiously. Reed felt a faint blush creep across his cheeks. He dropped the spoon back into the bowl of half-melted ice cream. 

"I'm sorry, Jonathan. I was just woolgathering. It's been a strange day." 

"How so?" 

"Just little things..." Reed replied evasively. 

"Problems with the repairs?" 

"No, nothing like that. Nothing important. Do you still want to go to the movie tonight?" Archer gave Reed a searching look, but didn't comment on the sudden change of topic. 

"Sure." He said easily.

___________________________________

Reed suppressed a yawn as he set the computer to run a routine diagnostic of the targeting scanners. The repair work was finally done and Enterprise was traveling through a nearly empty stretch of space. It was probably a good thing too, considering how little sleep he had been getting lately.

Reed had been spending nearly all of his off-duty hours with Archer. The new dimension of their relationship was exhilarating and sleep seemed like a dreadful waste of time--especially when compared to having sex with Archer. 

Of course, Reed couldn't blame all of his sleeplessness on Archer. The unfathomable nightmares continued to plague his sleep. They always left him shaking with fear, though he could never remember the dreams themselves. He wondered if he should go see Phlox and get something to suppress them. 

The computer beeped, drawing his attention back to his console. He started to examine the diagnostic results, but then paused when he became aware of the faint reflection in the screen. 

Reed felt the hair on the back of his neck rise. He could see Tucker's face reflected in the smooth surface as if the man were peering over his shoulder. He knew it couldn't be real. Tucker was dead. 

Reed saw Tucker's lips form his name. His heart lurched as adrenaline flooded his body. He leapt to his feet and turned, but there was nothing there. 

"Malcolm?" Archer asked in alarm. 

"I...I thought I saw..." Reed swallowed hard and tried to calm his racing heart. 

"Saw what?" Archer asked. Reed shook his head. How could he explain what he had seen? It was impossible. 

"Nothing." He said. "It was nothing. I'm sorry if I startled you."

___________________________________

Warm lips closed gently over his own, and a hand slid over his bare hip and thigh.

"Mmm." Reed murmured in sleepy pleasure. A tongue pushed lightly against his lips and he yielded to it. It swirled playfully around his mouth and then slowly withdrew. Reed whimpered a little at the loss of contact. 

"Time to get up." 

Reed pried his eyes open. Archer smiled down at him. 

"Is it morning already?" Reed asked groggily. His body felt heavy with fatigue. 

"I'm afraid so." Archer said. Reed groaned. 

"Surely the ship can survive without us for one day." He closed his eyes and snuggled up against Archer, resting his head on the other man's chest. "Let's just stay here. I doubt anyone will even notice we're missing." 

"T'Pol would notice." Archer said with a laugh. 

"She would, wouldn't she?" Reed said. He sighed heavily. "Ah, well. There goes that plan." 

"Come on." Archer said. He pressed a quick kiss against Reed's forehead. "Let's go get a shower. Maybe that will wake you up." 

"Do we have to?" 

"Yes. We do." Archer ran his hands down Reed's body teasingly. "I'll make it worth your while." 

"Promise?" Reed asked drowsily. 

"I promise. I'll even wash your back. Now come on."

___________________________________

Reed yawned and took another sip of strong black coffee as he joined the rest of the senior staff in the situation room for the morning briefing. Archer caught his eye and gave him a quick smile. Reed smiled back and took his seat.

About halfway through the meeting, his eyelids started to droop. Reed gave himself a small shake and tried to concentrate on what T'Pol was saying about the nebula the science team was currently studying. His unfocused mind refused to cooperate. Desperately, he took a gulp of coffee, hoping that the caffeine would give him a much-needed jolt of energy. 

He leaned back into his chair and then gasped in shock. Tucker was sitting directly across from him. Reed's breath caught in his throat and he felt the blood drain out of his face. 

Tucker's indistinct image looked at him pleadingly. Reed could see his lips moving, but he couldn't hear anything. After a few seconds the pale figure slowly faded away. 

A hand touched Reed's shoulder and he started violently. 

"Hey, it's just me." Mayweather said. "Are you okay? You look like you've just seen a ghost." 

Reed blinked and glanced around the room. Everyone was staring at him. He cast a quick look at the now empty chair across from him. Clearly no one else had seen what he had. He wasn't even sure he had really seen it himself. 

"Malcolm?" Archer prompted gently from the head of the table. Reed shook his head and slowly rose from his chair. 

"I...Forgive me, sir. I-I'm not feeling very well. Permission to go to sickbay?" 

"Of course." Archer said. "Do you want someone to go with you? You look a little pale." 

"No." Reed said quickly. "I'll be fine. Thank you."

___________________________________

"What seems to be the problem?" Phlox asked as he pointed the medical scanner at Reed.

"I'm not exactly sure." Reed said nervously. "I'm...ah, seeing things." 

"Things? Can you be more specific?" Reed shook his head. 

"Just...things. Things that can't possibly be there. Hallucinations." 

"What kind of hallucinations are we talking about?" Phlox asked. 

"It's the only explanation." Reed said more to himself than Phlox. "He can't be here." 

"Who can't be here?" Phlox asked curiously. There was a long silence. 

"Trip." Reed said finally. "I keep seeing Trip. But he's dead. I know he's dead." 

"You've seen Commander Tucker?" Phlox asked with a faint frown. Reed sighed and rubbed his fingers over his eyes. 

"At first I thought it was just shadows and an overactive imagination. But this morning...I really saw him. Only for a few seconds, but it was him." 

"Can you see him now?" 

Reed glanced warily around sickbay. He almost half-expected to see Tucker somewhere in the brightly lit room. 

"Um, no." He repressed the sudden hysterical urge to laugh. Maybe he really was going crazy. 

"Have you had any other symptoms?" Phlox asked. 

"Aside from being a little tired, no." 

"Have you been getting enough sleep lately?" 

"Well, I've been rather busy the past few days." Reed said awkwardly. "And, ah...I've been having a lot of nightmares lately. They wake me up sometimes." Inwardly, Reed winced. It sounded painfully childish when spoken out loud. 

"How many hours of sleep did you get last night?" Phlox asked. 

"Three, maybe four." 

"And the night before?" 

"Ah...about the same, I guess." Reed said. "Perhaps a little less." Phlox sighed and shook his head in exasperation. 

"The adult human body needs approximately seven to eight hours of sleep a day in order to function properly. It is quite possible that these hallucinations are the product of sleep deprivation." 

"There is one other thing you should know about." Reed said reluctantly. 

"And that is?" Phlox asked when he didn't continue. 

Reed quickly told him about the candles in the temple and the hallucinations they had caused, although he carefully left out the part about wanting to talk to Tucker. 

"And was there a reason you didn't tell me this before?" Phlox asked. Reed fidgeted a little under the doctor's disapproving glare. 

"It didn't seem all that important at the time. The effect only lasted for a little while and I felt fine afterward, so I didn't really think anything of it. And I did come in here about my wrist. You did a scan and blood work. Wouldn't any problem have shown up then?" 

"Most likely." Phlox conceded. "But it would have been better if you had told me earlier. Just to be sure, I'd like to conduct a full series of scans and run some more blood tests." 

"Of course. Whatever you feel is best." Reed said meekly.

___________________________________

Reed sat on the edge of the biobed, swinging his legs absently. He hadn't been able to relax despite Phlox's repeated orders to lie down and get some rest. The tests seemed to be taking a long time and he was starting to worry that there was something terribly wrong with him.

The sickbay doors slid open and Archer came in. The anxiety on his face eased a little when he saw Reed sitting on the biobed. 

"Hey, how are you feeling?" He asked. Before Reed could reply, Phlox came over. 

"Ah, Captain. Have you come to check up on my patient?" 

"Yes. How is he?" 

"Aside from exhibiting clear signs of physical and mental exhaustion, Lieutenant Reed appears to be in perfect health." 

Reed let his breath out in a small sigh of relief. It was nothing serious then, just fatigue. 

"Oh." Archer said. He glanced guiltily at Reed. 

"May I go now?" Reed asked hopefully. 

"Very well." Phlox said. "You may return to your quarters, but I expect you to rest. And you're off duty for the next three days." 

"Three days!" Reed said. His relief gave way to annoyance. "Surely all I need is a good night's sleep..." 

"No arguments, Lieutenant." Phlox said sternly. "Even you have your limits. The hallucinations you've been experiencing are your mind's way of telling you that you've reached them." 

"Hallucinations?" Archer said in surprise. "What hallucinations?" 

"Nothing to worry about, Captain." Phlox said quickly. "And nothing that several days of rest won't cure." He turned his attention back to Reed. "I'm going to give you a mild sedative before you leave." 

"I don't want any drugs." Reed said. 

"It's only to help you relax." 

"Malcolm, let him help you." Archer added. Reed crossed his arms over his chest and glared at them both. 

"Fine. Whatever." He said petulantly. Phlox beamed happily at Reed's grudging consent and quickly pressed the prepared hypospray against the armory officer's neck. 

"I'll have one of the medics escort you to your quarters to make sure you get settled in properly." Phlox said. 

"I'll do it, Doctor." Archer said quickly. "I'm headed that way anyway." 

"Very well." Phlox said. He looked at Reed. "If you should need anything please call me on the comm." 

"All right." Reed muttered. He slid off the bed and started toward the doors. He stumbled slightly when he caught sight of Tucker's ghostly form standing by the counter. Archer grabbed Reed by the elbow to steady him. 

"Are you okay?" He asked. 

"Ah...fine." Reed said. "I...I guess that stuff Phlox gave me works pretty fast." 

"Feeling a little woozy already?" Archer asked. Reed glanced furtively at the counter. Tucker was gone. 

"Um, I...Yes, a little." 

"Come on, then. Let's get you back to your quarters before you fall over." Reed made no protest as Archer settled an arm around his shoulders and steered him out into the corridor. 

He was suddenly glad that he had accepted the sedative. If sleep would make the disconcerting visions go away, then he was all for it.

___________________________________

A small sound startled him awake. He nearly struck out at the figure that loomed above him before he realized that it was Archer.

"I'm sorry." Archer said. "I didn't mean to startle you." 

"'S all right. What time is it?" Reed asked blearily. 

"Time to eat. I brought us some lunch." Archer waved his hand at the heavily laden tray on the desk. 

"Sounds good." Reed said. He sat up and rubbed his hands over his sleep-gritted eyes. "I'm rather hungry." 

"Not surprising considering you've slept for twenty-three hours straight. You were completely out of it. I was starting to get a little worried." 

"You've been checking in on me?" Reed said in surprise. 

"I wanted to make sure you were all right." Archer said as he leaned forward to place a quick kiss on Reed's lips. "After all, it's probably my fault that you're so worn-out. I haven't let you get a decent night's sleep in days." 

"I didn't mind." Reed said with a smile. "I didn't even realize how tired I was until this morning. Or was it yesterday morning?" 

"You need to take better care of yourself." Archer said gently. 

"I'll try." 

"Now come over here and have something to eat before you starve to death." 

"All right. Just give me a few minutes to visit the head first." Reed swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood unsteadily. 

"Need any help?" Archer asked. 

"I think I can manage to take a piss by myself." Reed said irritably. He was annoyed by how weak and dizzy he felt. He wondered if it was a side effect of the drug Phlox had given him. 

"All right." Archer said. He held up his hands in mock surrender. "I was just asking." 

Reed carefully crossed the room and entered the lavatory. He glanced around warily, but saw no sign of Tucker. Reed shook his head and laughed self-consciously. He was being ridiculous. Of course Tucker wasn't there. How could he be? 

Reed quickly relieved his aching bladder and then washed his hands. He studied the mirror carefully, but the only face reflected in its surface was his own. He smiled wanly. Maybe a nice long rest hadn't been such a bad idea after all. His stomach rumbled noisily, reminding him that it had been a while since he had eaten anything. 

He exited the bathroom and joined Archer at the desk. 

"Smells good." He said as Archer handed him a bowl of soup. 

"Rumor has it that it tastes pretty good too." Archer said with a grin. Reed dutifully ate a small spoonful of the soup. 

"Oh!" He said in surprise. "This is delicious. What is it?" 

"Tortilla soup. Chef's been trying out some new recipes lately." 

"I see. I hope he keeps this one." Reed said. 

"Me too." Archer replied. "But you never know with Chef. He has his own ideas of what should be on the permanent menu. I've given up on trying to influence him." 

They finished the meal in companionable silence, both of them intent on the food. 

"That was wonderful." Reed said with a satisfied sigh. "Thank you, Jon." 

"You're welcome." Archer stood and began to stack the empty dishes onto the tray. "I should go and let you get back to sleep." 

"You're leaving already?" Reed said in dismay. He caught Archer's hand in his own and pulled the older man down for a kiss. 

"You're supposed to be resting." Archer said as he gently freed himself from Reed's embrace. 

"But I'm not tired." Reed immediately contradicted the statement by yawning. 

"Not tired, huh?" Archer said with a grin. 

"Well, maybe a just a little." Reed admitted. Archer pointed at the bunk. 

"Back to bed, Lieutenant." He said firmly. 

"Will you stay with me?" Reed asked. 

"Malcolm..." 

"Not for sex." Reed hastened to add. "Just for company." 

"All right. I'll stay for a while, but only if you promise to behave." 

"I promise not to tempt you." Reed said with a smirk. 

"You always tempt me, Malcolm." Archer smiled and kissed Reed on the forehead. "Exhausted or not, you're a very desirable man." 

"Thank you, Jonathan." Reed said quietly. 

Archer stripped down to his t-shirt and underwear and dimmed the lights before curling up with Reed on the narrow bunk. Reed sighed in contentment. 

"Good night." He said. 

"'Night, Malcolm." Archer replied. He placed another kiss on the back of Reed's neck. "Sweet dreams."

___________________________________

Reed woke with a strangled cry. Panic raced through his heart as he stared wildly around the room. Beside him, Archer slept on, his face peaceful and relaxed.

Trembling and sweating, Reed sat on the edge of the bed. He pressed his hands against his face and tried to dispel his irrational terror. Eventually, his heart began to slow and his breathing eased. He stood unsteadily and went into the lavatory. 

He leaned against the sink and filled a cup with cool water. He lifted it to his lips and then froze when he caught sight of Tucker standing behind him in the mirror. This time the image looked solid. Real. Reed stared at it in shock. The cup slipped from his fingers and fell into the sink with a clatter. 

No, he thought frantically. This can't be happening. It isn't real. Trip is dead. 

But Tucker was there in the mirror. It wasn't some vague fuzzy image caught out of the corner of his eye. It wasn't something he could put down to fatigue or stress. The skin on the back of his neck prickled with dread. 

Tucker looked at him beseechingly. His lips moved, but all Reed could hear was a thin incomprehensible hum of sound. 

"Please." Reed whispered. "Please leave me alone." 

But the image didn't go away. It shook its head and continued to speak. 

"No." Reed slammed his fist hard against the mirror and Tucker's image shattered in a spray of silver. Reed leaned against the sink, shivering and gasping for air. 

"Darlin', listen..." Tucker's nearly inaudible voice said close to his ear. Reed thought he could feel a puff of warm breath against his neck. It was too much. 

"No!" He cried desperately. He clapped his hands over his ears and sank down onto the cold bathroom tiles, pulling himself into a ball. 

"Please." He said as he closed his eyes tightly. "Just leave me alone." 

"Malcolm?" Reed heard Archer's sleepy voice call out from the other room, but he couldn't bring himself to open his eyes. Tucker was still there. Reed could hear his indistinct whisper. 

"Malcolm? Are you in here?" Reed heard the bathroom door slide open and felt Archer's hands on his shoulders. "What happened?" Archer asked anxiously. "Are you hurt?" 

"He won't leave me alone." Reed said. He kept his eyes tightly shut. 

"Who won't leave you alone?" Archer asked. 

"Trip. He's here." Reed's voice faltered. "I can hear him. I can hear his voice. He's here. He won't leave me alone." 

"Malcolm..." Archer said helplessly. 

"Why is he doing this to me?" Reed said. Tears of despair slowly trickled out from under his eyelids. Archer gently wiped them away. 

"Come here." He tugged on Reed's shoulder. Reed gave to the pressure immediately and let Archer pull him into a hug. He clutched at Archer's t-shirt and pressed his face against the other man's shoulder. 

"Please." He begged. "Please make it stop."

___________________________________

Reed lay on the biobed, curled up in a miserable ball. The drugs Phlox had given him had left him feeling muzzy and detached, as if his mind was no longer connected properly to his body.

He could hear low concerned voices coming from the direction of Phlox's office. They were discussing him. He was too far away to hear everything that was being said, but what he could hear wasn't terribly comforting. 

"...can find no physical cause for...hallucinations." Phlox was saying. 

"So you're telling me that...all in his head?" Archer sounded upset. 

"...appears to be suffering...some form of psychosis." Reed strained to hear Phlox's voice. "I have been unable to identify...triggering factor. But given his...may be related to stress. We both know...Commander Tucker's death quite hard. He may...unresolved issues...Perhaps he wasn't quite ready to...This may be his mind's way of dealing...guilt over the change in his relationship with you. I'll need to conduct a full psychiatric evaluation before I can determine..." 

Reed pulled the blanket tightly around his shoulders and closed his eyes. He didn't want to hear anymore. 

Several minutes later, he heard the soft whisper of fabric as the privacy curtain was parted. He didn't bother to open his eyes. He recognized the sound of Archer's footsteps. 

"I've gone mad, haven't I?" He asked when Archer didn't say anything. Archer gently brushed the hair back from Reed's forehead. 

"No, you haven't gone mad. You're just hallucinating. Phlox said there could be any number of explanations. He just needs some time to figure out why this is happening." Reed gave a bark of bitter laughter and opened his eyes. 

"Except that he can't find anything wrong with me--at least not physically." He said. Archer gave him a startled look. "I heard you talking." Reed explained. 

"Oh." Archer said uncomfortably. There was a long silence. 

"Are you going to leave me?" Reed asked in a small voice. 

"No, Malcolm." Archer said as he sat down on the edge of the bed. "I'm not going to leave you." 

"Do you think Phlox is right? That these hallucinations were caused by the change in our relationship?" 

"I don't know." Archer said with a sigh. "All I know is that we'll get through this together." 

"Will you stay with me for a while?" 

"Sure. Scoot over a little, would you?" Archer joined Reed on the narrow bed and put his arm around him. It was a tight fit, but Reed didn't care. He felt safer with the other man next to him. He slid his hand over Archer's and twined their fingers together. 

"I'm scared." He admitted softly. 

"We'll figure this out, Malcolm." Archer said. "I promise."

___________________________________

Reed tried to focus on Mayweather. The helmsman was chatting about the latest betting pool results, but Reed found it difficult to hear him over the thin constant buzz of Tucker's voice. He still couldn't understand what his dead lover was trying to tell him. He wasn't sure if he wanted to.

"It's...real." Tucker said. "...not safe." 

The fragmented whisper grated against Reed's nerves like sandpaper. He shot a glare at Tucker, but the image only stared back mulishly and kept right on speaking. 

"Damn it!" Reed shouted in frustration. "Would you shut up? I don't understand what you're trying to tell me!" 

He snatched the cup of water from the nightstand and threw it at the image. The glass passed right through it and hit the far wall with a loud crash. Tucker fell silent. So did Mayweather. Reed let his breath out in a shuddering sigh and put his head into his hands. 

"Uh. I...I'll just come back later." Mayweather said nervously. He leapt to his feet and practically bolted from sickbay. Reed watched him go in dismay. He had the feeling he wouldn't be seeing Mayweather again anytime soon. 

"Fuck." He whispered. Tucker just shook his head sadly.

___________________________________

"Malcolm..." Tucker was back. Again. Reed could hear him quite clearly this time.

"Go away." He said. He scowled at Tucker. Over the past few days, he had become so inured to the sight of the dead man that he sometimes had to remind himself that Tucker was just a delusion. He was pretty sure that was a bad sign. 

"Please," Tucker said, "just listen to me. You're in danger." 

"Go away." Reed said. He resisted the urge to pull the blanket over his head. "You shouldn't be here. I don't want you to be here." Tucker sighed. 

"Malcolm, I never abandoned you while I was alive and I'm sure as hell not gonna do it now. Not while you're in trouble." 

"Oh, I'm in trouble all right." Reed muttered. "I'm talking to a dead man." 

"Malcolm, would you just shut up and listen to me! This isn't real." 

"Damn it, Trip! Don't you think I know that?" Reed shouted. "You can't be here." 

"No. I'm real enough. You can see me because you're a lot closer to death than life right now. But this--" Tucker said, waving his hand vaguely at the room. "None of this is real." 

"That's impossible." Reed said flatly. 

"Is it?" Tucker challenged. 

"You're trying to trick me." 

"I'm not the one who's messin' with your head, Darlin'. Listen to me. You're still in that temple, or at least what's left of it. You never left. That woman...that creature is deceiving you." 

"We left Haldarria almost two weeks ago." Reed said stubbornly. Enterprise was real. Sickbay was real. The dead man in front of him wasn't. 

"No you didn't." Tucker said insistently. "This is a distraction, Malcolm. It's what she wants you to see. That woman, that thing--she isn't what she seems to be. She's something very old and very dangerous. She's using all of this to keep you quiet while she feeds." A cold trickle of fear ran down Reed's spine. 

"What do you mean?" He asked anxiously, forgetting for a moment that he shouldn't believe anything this hallucination told him. 

"The locals call her the Eater of Souls. I don't know what she is exactly. Some kind of alien, maybe. But I do know that she's dangerous. She steals life energy to manifest and sustain herself in our dimension. She hasn't fed in a long time so she's still very weak. That's the only reason you're still alive, but we're running out of time." 

Reed shook his head. 

"No. This is insane. There's no such thing as soul eaters or ghosts. And normal sane people don't talk to their dead lovers. So go away." 

"Think about it, Malcolm." Tucker pleaded. "You know deep down that something isn't right. You feel it. I know you do. You once told me that you trusted your instincts--what are they telling you now?" 

Reed fidgeted slightly as he thought about his constant exhaustion, his nightmares, and the cold nameless dread that crept up on him at odd times. But those could just be the symptoms of some kind of mental illness. He shook his head sadly. 

"I'm sick. I can't trust what my senses are telling me anymore." 

"Then trust me." Tucker said. "Please. You're running out of time. Have I ever lied to you?" The question startled Reed. He stared at Tucker for a long time. 

"No." He said finally, his voice soft. "You've never lied to me." 

"Then please trust me now. I want you to put the charm on." 

"What?" 

"The charm the man gave you in the marketplace." 

"How do you know about that?" 

"I told him to give it to you." 

"And just how did you do that? You're dead." 

"The man's a medium." 

"A what?" 

"A psychic. You know, a person who can see and talk to spirits." 

"Trip, there's no such thing..." Reed started to protest, but Tucker cut him off. 

"Malcolm! Just put it on." 

"I don't have it anymore." 

"Yes you do. It's in your pocket." 

"No it's not." Reed said. "I gave it to Phlox." 

"Malcolm." Tucker said firmly. "Look in your pocket." 

"I'm wearing a sickbay gown." Reed said in exasperation. "It doesn't have pockets." 

"Close your eyes." 

"Why?" Reed asked suspiciously. 

"Just do it." Tucker said. "For once in your life, just do as I say without arguin', okay?" Reed scowled at him. 

"Fine." He said as he closed his eyes. 

"Now, imagine that you're wearing your uniform." 

"All right." 

"Reach into your pocket." 

"Trip..." 

"Just humor me." 

With a sigh of annoyance, Reed reached down as if to put his hand into his pocket. His fingers encountered fabric, a tangle of thin chain and then a rough round object. He grabbed onto it and opened his eyes. He was holding the bracelet. 

"Impossible." He muttered. 

"Put it on." Trip said. 

"I'm allergic to it." Reed said. It was already stinging unpleasantly against his fingers. 

"No, you're not. It only hurts because it's trying to tell you that you're in danger." 

"That doesn't make any sense." Reed said. "It's just a bunch of grass and leaves. How does it...?" 

"Just put it on." Tucker said. "Hurry." 

Reed fumbled with the charm until he finally managed to slip it onto his wrist. The twisted band burned like acid against his skin and the world suddenly shattered around him. 

Cold. He was terribly cold. Sickbay was gone and all he could see was a pale glittering expanse of white. Ice. No, not ice. Granite. The temple. He was in the temple, staring up at the high domed ceiling. 

He wasn't supposed to be here. It was wrong. All wrong. Scared and disoriented, he tried to sit up. Pain lanced through his body and he fell back onto the cold floor with a sharp gasp. His breath clouded in the frigid air like smoke. 

Something moved at the periphery of his vision and he turned his head to get a better look. A chaotic mass of darkness swirled beside him. Looking at it made him feel strangely nauseous. As he watched, a thin black tendril extended out from the mass and slowly slithered toward him, wriggling along the floor like a viper. He stared at it in confusion. It reared up suddenly and then stabbed down into his chest. 

Reed screamed. His vision grayed and blood roared in his ears as the thing slowly burrowed into his flesh. He arched up off the floor, instinctively trying to escape the pain. 

"Malcolm! Malcolm, listen to me!" Tucker's voice rose above the rush of sound in his ears. Reed tried to focus on him. 

"Trip." He gasped. "Help me." 

"I'm trying to. You need to pull them out. All of them." 

"Wh-What?" 

"The tentacles. You need to pull them out." 

Reed glanced down at chest and was horrified to see nearly a dozen of the thin dark tendrils attached to his body. They pulsed and quivered as they fed off of him like leeches. 

"Oh, God..." 

"Touch them with the charm and then pull them out. Hurry." Tucker said. 

"I can't. I can't. Trip..." 

"Do it!" Tucker commanded. 

With a sharp panicky motion, Reed brushed the charm over one of the tendrils. It squirmed and writhed as if in pain and then suddenly seemed to shrivel. Bracing himself, Reed grabbed it and gave it a firm yank. Agony shot through him as it tore free from his body. 

His weak cry of pain was echoed by an angry shriek that reverberated through the temple. 

"Hurry." Tucker urged again. 

Groaning in pain, Reed obeyed. He struck out at the shadowy strands, scraping the charm over them forcefully. He snatched at the withered remains with his other hand and ripped them from his body. 

Pain clouded his mind and he fought to remain conscious. He wrenched the last tendril out of his chest and rolled away from the churning darkness. 

Somehow he managed to push himself up onto his hands and knees. Dark red drops of blood splattered onto the pure white granite floor, marring its sparkling surface. Reed shook his head in confusion. White. The entire floor was white. The black spiral was gone. 

A soft, wet slithering sound drew his attention away from the floor. 

Something horrifyingly inhuman loomed out of the roiling darkness, dragging its bloated body along on hundreds of thick shadowy tentacles. The large misshapen head had no discernable features other than an uneven row of oily yellow-green eyes and a wide mouth full writhing feeding-tendrils. It reeked of corruption and old blood. Everything about it was wrong, terribly wrong. 

Frozen with fear, all Reed could do was stare as monstrous thing crept closer. 

"Malcolm!" Tucker's voice broke through his terror, and freed him from the cold paralysis. 

Reed struggled to his feet as the creature closed in on him. It was too late to run. There was only one option left. 

With the last of his strength, Reed leapt forward and smashed the charm into one of the thing's glowing yellow-green eyes. The creature shrieked and reared backward. Viscous fluid sprayed from the damaged organ. It splattered across Reed's hands and face. The stench was nearly unbearable. 

Undeterred, Reed slammed his wrist against the creature's eyes again and again. They gave way under his assault, splitting open like overripe fruit. 

The creature wailed and thrashed wildly, knocking Reed to the ground. Reed braced himself against the pale wall and forced himself to stand, but the thing was already retreating. 

With a final angry screech, it fled back into the churning darkness. As Reed watched, the heavy shadows suddenly seemed to fold in on themselves, over and over again, until they disappeared with an audible popping sound. 

The gleaming white temple slowly disintegrated around him, dissolving into tumbled broken blocks of pitted graying granite. 

"Malcolm?" Tucker said. 

Reed took a wobbling step toward Tucker. Ghost or hallucination, Tucker at least was familiar. He staggered and fell heavily to his knees. The night air around him was bitterly cold and heavy frost rimed the tall grasses of the meadow. 

Tucker knelt in front of him, his face tight with worry. 

"Is this...is this real?" Reed gasped as he stared at the ancient ruins around him. "I d-don't remember this." Hot blood trickled sluggishly down his skin. 

"This is real." Tucker said. "I swear this is real. The temple was here a long time ago, but it doesn't exist anymore. It was an illusion too; the bait to draw you in." 

"And I walked right into the trap...like a lamb to the slaughter." Reed said. "Stupid. So stupid." 

"Malcolm..." 

"I'm tired." Reed said faintly. He wrapped his arms around himself and wished that he were someplace warmer. 

"Malcolm!" Tucker's voice was loud and laced with panic. Reed forced his eyes open. Tucker peered down at him anxiously. 

Reed realized that he was lying on the ground. When had that happened? He didn't know. The dried grass was brittle and prickly, but he didn't really care. With a small sigh, he reached out toward Tucker but his hand encountered nothing solid. Reed felt a sharp pang of disappointment. 

"I've missed you." He mumbled. "I've missed you so much." 

"I've missed you too, Darlin'. But..." 

"It doesn't hurt you." Reed said suddenly. 

"What?" 

"The charm. Why doesn't it hurt you?" 

"It protects against malevolence, Malcolm, not love." 

"Oh." Reed smiled. "Love you too, Trip. Always have." His eyes started to slide shut. He was so tired. 

"Oh, no you don't Malcolm Reed! You stay awake! Do you hear me?" 

"All right. All right. No...no need to shout." Reed said. 

"Get out your communicator." Tucker said. 

"Why?" 

"Because you need help." 

"Already have help. You're here." 

"No. I can't help with this. The only reason you can still see me is because you're dying. You need to contact Enterprise." 

"Oh. If I die, will we be together again?" Reed asked. 

"Damn it Malcolm! I didn't go to all this trouble just so you could die. You get that goddamn communicator out of your pocket right now. That's an order Lieutenant!" 

"Can't order me 'round anymore." Reed said. "You're dead. Remember?" 

"I still outrank you, though. Come on. Do it for me. Please." 

"All right." Reed struggled to unzip his pocket with numb, clumsy fingers. Eventually he managed to free the communicator. It took several more minutes of fumbling to open the device. It chirruped cheerfully, indicating an open channel. 

"Good." Tucker said. "Now tell them you need help." 

"Can't you do it? 'M so tired." 

"No, I can't. Please, you have to do this." 

"Fine. Make me do all the work. " Reed brought the communicator up to his face, accidentally hitting himself in the nose with the uncoordinated movement. 

"Reed...Reed to Archer." 

"Malcolm!" Archer's frantic voice came clearly through the communicator. "Where are you? We've been looking for you for hours. I've been so worried..." 

"Jon. Listen." Reed said, every word an effort. Archer immediately fell silent. "I'm hurt. Need help." 

"Where are you?" 

"Don't know exactly. Ruins. Outside of town." Reed coughed and tasted blood. "I'm not...not doing too well." 

"Okay Malcolm. We're going to use your comm signal to pinpoint your location. I want you to keep this channel open. Understand?" 

Reed nodded. 

"He can't see you, Darlin'." Tucker said gently. 

"Oh." Reed said. "Yes. I...I understand." 

"We're coming to get you right now. You just hang on, okay? That's an order, Lieutenant." 

"Everyone ordering me around." Reed mumbled. 

"Malcolm?" Archer said worriedly. 

"Don't worry, Jon." Reed let his affection for the other man creep into his voice. "I've got...better things to do tonight than die. Still owe you dinner." 

"Yes you do." Archer said fiercely. "So you just stay with me, okay?" 

"All right. I'll try." Reed's grasp weakened and the communicator slipped from his trembling fingers. He was too tired to pick up the device again even though he could still hear Archer talking encouragingly to him. 

"So...you and Jonny, eh?" Tucker said with a slight smile. 

"No. Not yet." Reed said softly. 

"But you love him?" 

"Trip, I-I'm sorry." Reed said guiltily. "I..." 

"Oh, Malcolm," Tucker said. "I didn't mean it like that. I'm happy for you. I don't want you to go through the rest of your life without love. You deserve to be loved." 

"Never...answered my question." Reed said. 

"Which question?" 

"If I die...?" 

"Yeah, Darlin'." Tucker said gently. "We'll be together." 

"Good. That's good." 

"Malcolm, I want you to promise me something." 

"Anything." Reed said. 

"I want you to promise me that you'll tell Jon how you feel. Don't waste time. I don't want your grief for me to kill your love for him. I want you to be happy. And Jon too." 

"Trip..." 

"Promise me. Please." 

"Fine. I promise." Tucker smiled at him. 

"Listen. Hear the shuttlepod? They'll be here any second now. You're gonna be fine." 

"Trip?" 

"Yeah, Darlin'?" 

"Kiss me." 

"I can't. I'm incorporeal. Remember?" 

"Please. Pretend you can. I want...I want to kiss you again. Just once. Never had a chance to say goodbye last time." 

"Oh, Malcolm..." Tucker reached out and placed an insubstantial hand against Reed's cheek. Slowly he leaned forward. 

Reed closed his eyes and for a brief moment he felt Tucker's lips ghost tenderly over his own. He thought he heard someone call his name from far away, and then there was nothing at all.

___________________________________

Reed felt a hand brush gently over his forehead. The brevity of the contact was disappointing.

"Trip?" He murmured. 

"Malcolm? Are you awake?" It was Archer's voice, low and full of worry. Something bad must have happened. 

With an effort, Reed managed to open his eyes. He blinked a little in the dim light. Archer was sitting next to him. 

"Jonathan." Reed's voice slurred a little. "Where are we?" 

"Sickbay." Archer said. "How do you feel?" Reed thought about it for a moment. His head hurt, his heavily bandaged chest ached, and he was utterly exhausted. 

"Alive. I think." He said. Archer smiled and the lines of anxiety on his face diminished. 

"You really had me worried there for a while." He said. 

"Oh. What happened?" Reed asked. Archer's smile faded. 

"We were hoping you could tell us." He said. 

"I don't know. There was a temple." 

"You mean the ruins?" 

"Yes. No. I don't know." Reed suddenly felt a little scared. "I...I d-don't remember what happened." He struggled to raise himself up onto his elbows. 

"Easy." Archer said. He pressed Reed back down against the pillows. "It's okay." 

Reed ran his hands across his face and then hesitated when he caught a glimpse of green. He lifted his arm slightly and stared at the thin braided band around his swollen wrist. He started to slide it off, but Archer stopped him. 

"Leave it be. Phlox said that it's helping to counteract the poison in your system." 

"Poison?" Reed said in alarm. "From what?" 

"We don't know exactly. Phlox hasn't seen anything like it before." "Oh." Reed stared at the bracelet. "And this is helping?" 

"Apparently." 

"How?" 

"I don't know. You'll have to ask Phlox for the details. He said that without it you probably would have died before we found you." 

"Malevolence." Reed said with a faint laugh. Archer frowned in confusion. 

"What?" 

"The man in the marketplace. The one who gave it to me. He said it would protect me against malevolence. And Trip..." Reed's voice trailed off uncertainly. 

"What?" Archer said with a puzzled look. 

"I...I remember...I think I was dreaming." Reed said hesitantly. 

"About what?" 

"Trip. I was dreaming about Trip." 

"Oh." Archer said. He shifted a little in his chair. 

"I dreamt about us, too." Reed said softly. Archer smiled tentatively. 

"You did?" He asked. 

"Yes." Reed said as he slowly pushed himself upright. "Us. And this." He pulled Archer in for a gentle exploratory kiss. 

"Oh." Archer said with a soft exhalation. He brushed his fingers lightly along Reed's face. 

"Is this real?" Reed asked. He turned his head to press into Archer's touch. "Please tell me this is real." 

"It's real, Malcolm. You're not dreaming this time." Archer said. "I promise." 

"Good." Reed sighed and leaned into the other man. 

"I nearly lost you." Archer said, his voice ragged with emotion. 

"You didn't. I'm right here. I don't want to be anywhere else but here with you." 

"That's good," Archer said, "because I don't plan on letting you go." Reed smiled and burrowed deeper into Archer's warm embrace. 

"I love you Jonathan." He said softly. 

"I love you too, Malcolm." 

"Mmm. Guess that's settled then." Reed said with a sleepy yawn. Archer laughed. 

"Yeah. It is. We'll worry about the details later." 

Reed's response was rendered unintelligible by another yawn. 

"You're tired." Archer said as he gently eased Reed back onto the pillows. "I should go and let you get some rest." He gave Reed a sweet lingering kiss and started to rise to his feet, but Reed caught his hand. 

"Stay. Please. At least until I fall asleep again." 

"Okay." Archer wove their fingers together and sank back into his chair. Silence fell, and Reed began to slowly drift back into sleep. 

"You know, it's strange." Archer ventured hesitantly. 

"What's strange?" Reed asked drowsily. 

"You said you were dreaming about Trip. But...when we found you, I could have sworn that that I saw Trip sitting next to you. Just for a moment. It was as if he was taking care of you until I got there." Archer shook his head and laughed uneasily. "I know it sounds crazy." 

"No, it doesn't sound crazy at all. Trip always did like happy endings. Maybe he was just making sure we got ours." 

"Do you think so?" Archer asked with a smile. Reed gave Archer's hand a light squeeze. 

"Yes. Yes, I really do." 

~the end~


End file.
